


Our Tribe

by FettsOnTop (GTFF)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Breeding Kink, Death Watch (Star Wars), Dirty Talk, F/M, Mild Femdom, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2018, Treat, doomed romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-24 14:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16642358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop
Summary: Pre Vizsla and Bo-Katan Kryze get a little carried away as the Death Watch claims another stronghold.





	Our Tribe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fandumbandflummery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandumbandflummery/gifts).



“The stronghold is ours.”

Just like that. After a week of bloody siege, the clan leaders decided that their loyalty to the New Mandalorian government wasn’t worth the price.

Bo-Katan Kryze stood in the now-vacant chambers of their vanquished foes, surrounded by the remnants of their struggle. Charts. Holomaps. A large planning table with four different flickering holoprojectors that gave their bleak reports of supplies and defenses.

“Got to admire their style, at least.”

Bo-Katan looked over at where Arla Fett was standing. The older woman was looking at a mosaic covering one entire wall, a full depiction of a battle made from geometric patterns of stone.

“This is an old stronghold.” Pre Vizsla removed his helmet and went to take a closer look. “See these clan sigils? These are the clans who allied and conquered this sector long ago.”

“And now their descendants lost it,” Arla remarked dryly.

“Not all of them.” A young recruit called Kas Burdii touched one of the sigils. “This is my clan.”

“It belongs to all of us,” Pre said firmly. “It’s our history. Our legends.” 

Bo-Katan took off her own helmet, letting her short copper hair swing free. “We’re making new history now. New legends.”

“New from old,” he said as she moved closer to him. “We have their blood in our veins.” He touched the sigils embedded in the wall. “House Vizsla. House Kryze.” His eyes burned her, like the blue flames under _beskar_ smelters. “This is our past and our future.”

She looked deliberately at the mapping table behind him and raised her eyebrows. “How shall we claim it?”

His back straightened. “Burdii. Fett. Dismissed.”

She didn’t wait for them to leave. Living in tents as a band of marauders meant that every single member of their tribe had seen her kiss the _Mand’alor_. Some of them had seen more than that. Only a few days ago Burdii had walked in on them in the supply tent while Pre was kneeling between her legs.

As much as she enjoyed that, she had something different in mind today. The leader of the Death Watch had already removed the necessary armor and a light shove guided him back to the table. He sat and gathered her into his arms as she straddled his thighs.

“Our future,” she echoed, reaching for the opening of his pants. “Yours and mine.”

“And our children’s.” The way he looked at her would have been blasphemous, if Mandalorians had gods. She might be the forgotten little sister of House Kryze, but to Pre Vizsla she was the crowning gem. _Mhor meshurok_ , he crooned when they were joined together. Precious gem.

“The future of Mandalore,” he continued, removing her stomach armor with deft hands. He touched her flat stomach, caressing her through her clothing before his hand moved lower. “We will raise warriors.”

 _Mhi ba’juri verde._ The marriage vows. His fingers rubbed between her legs and Bo-Katan let her head fall back, grinding against his touch. “A new generation of Mandalorians," she panted. "Unafraid. Unashamed.”

“It starts with us,” he growled. “It starts here.” There was a quick flurry of movement to remove gloves, and to open clothing just enough. “If we had more time…”

“You would fall before House Kryze?” She drew his cock from his pants and gave it a firm squeeze. “Would you pledge yourself to me? To our future? To our children?”

“Yesss.” His fingers dug painfully into her hips as she mounted him, teasing him with her wet folds and rubbing her clit against his shaft. “I would...do anything…”

“You would give me everything? Your life. Your sword. Your _seed_.”

“YES,” He cried, too loudly as she impaled herself on him. 

“Give it to me,” she panted to the man beneath her. Her _Mand’alor_. “Give me _everything_.”

They moved together, rough and urgent, perfectly in sync. They fought together, camped together and might one day die together in glorious combat. But if they didn’t die, this was the beginning of a new era for Mandalore. 

They would be remembered as legends.

The sweet tension grew in her belly and hips, heat gathering in her core. Her hands spread over his breastplate, the hard ridges of true Mandalorian iron beneath her fingers. This incredible man, who loved her almost as much as he loved his home and his people.

“We were born for this,” she breathed. “We were born to be together.”

“We were born to conquer,” Pre groaned, just before her orgasm hit. She gave a triumphant cry, not caring who heard. She fell forward, and Pre caught her, his strong hands holding her face tenderly. He kissed her mouth, her cheeks, whispering that she was beautiful and mighty. She opened her eyes and watched his face as his own peak hit, her hips rolling with his as he filled her up.

There wouldn’t be any children yet. Not while they were living in tents. But one day...when Mandalore was united…

The comlink crackled. “ _Mand’alor_. We have transmissions from Sundari.”

Pre exhaled, his hands still cupping her face. “I need you by my side.”

She put her hands over his, their fingers intertwined. “Always.”


End file.
